


Wide Open Heart

by LadyDrace



Series: Junk Ficlets from Tumblr [133]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dancing, Derek Hale as Superman, Fluff, Flying, Getting Together, Happy Ending, M/M, POV Derek Hale, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 00:22:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13582077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: Derek is Superman, but that doesn't mean he can dance. Stiles doesn't seem to care.





	Wide Open Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here on Tumblr](http://ladydrace.tumblr.com/post/154639728591/well-whaddya-know-it-turns-out-today-is) as a birthday present for Shealwaysreads. <3
> 
> Unbetaed.

”But I'm not... I can't really- oh gosh,” Derek stammered as Stiles dragged him onto the dancefloor at the office party. Being Superman was all well and good, but good rhythm obviously wasn't part of that deal, so the prospect of being fondly pressured to dance wasn't exactly a happy one. Even if Stiles was the one pressuring. _Especially_ if Stiles was the one... God, Derek could hardly think of a more mortifying prospect than making an absolute idiot of himself in front of Stiles. Clever, dedicated, razor-sharp, _gorgeous_ Stiles, who for some reason seemed to find Derek's deliberate fumbling around endearing rather than annoying.

 

For that alone, Derek couldn't find it in himself to refuse Stiles when he was being so sincere about it, pulling at Derek's hand with a lopsided and tipsy smile, his eyes gleaming with fondness. God, Derek was weak.

 

”I can't dance,” Derek admitted, barely audible over the beat, fast and impossible, but Stiles just pulled him close, intoxicatingly close, regardless of the type of song.

 

”Shut up and dance with me,” Stiles said, hands hot like branding irons on Derek's waist, guiding him into a stuttering, halting off-rhythm movement. It was pretty horrible as far as dancing went, but god, Stiles was so close, eyes pulling Derek in, shimmering like stars, whiskey-drops, caramel, all kinds of things that Derek couldn't even put a name to. In English _or_ Kryptonian. He thought of nebulas and asteroids, galaxies and moons. Nothing compared.

 

And, astonishingly, Stiles didn't frown or grimace even once at Derek's terrible movements, cautious and wrong-footed, mostly focusing on not stepping on Stiles' toes.

 

”I really can't-” Derek tried again, eyes dropping to his feet, only to be directed up again by a finger on his chin.

 

”Don't look down. Eyes on me,” Stiles murmured, and Derek blessed his superior hearing for being able to hear how soft his voice was, even over the music.

 

And how was Derek to argue with that?

 

* * *

 

”Take my hand,” Derek said quietly, cape flowing smoothly behind him, the city streets busy many many floors below. Stiles looked understandably cautious, but also excited, and after a moment of hesitation he took Derek's hand and let himself be pulled up and off the roof. If Derek hadn't already been flying it felt like he should have been, his heart thumping in his chest as he pulled Stiles close, arm secure around his waist as he darted off. He made sure not to fly too fast, but Stiles wasn't having it.

 

”Go go go!” he urged, and Derek went faster until Stiles was laughing out loud, strands of his hair whipping from the wind. The sheer joy was infectuous, and Derek felt reckless and brave in a way he never had, superpowers or not, as he took them higher, spinning them around to Stiles' loud delight.

 

”You wanna try something?” he asked, and Stiles could barely nod fast enough. ”Don't look down. Eyes on me,” Derek murmured, the stupidly romantic part of him unable to resist the temptation, and Stiles gave him a look and a raised eyebrow, as if to say ” _really?_ ” but he still smiled at Derek, trusting. So trusting.

 

In one slow and steady move Derek let Stiles float away from his body, grip firm on his hand but otherwise just letting the air hold them as he let them drop, giving them a few moments of weightlessness. Stiles whooped and cheered, and coaxed Derek to do a somersalt and a twirl before Derek felt they were getting too close to the ground and slowed them down.

 

”Chicken,” Stiles huffed, voice hoarse from his delighted yelling, and Derek pulled him close again.

 

”Shut up and fly with me,” Derek shot back, and Stiles gave him an odd look.

 

”Look, uh. Not that I don't appreciate this treat but... uh... thing is... I'm not trying to sound like I'm the kind of person people fight over or anything, but... I just don't want you to read anything into this. I'm kinda into someone else right now,” Stiles said, and Derek would probably be feeling pretty terrible at the moment if Stiles hadn't been kissing down his neck in the elevator that same morning. It had been kind of a near miss stopping him from unbuttoning anything and getting a peek at what was underneath.

 

”No, you're not,” Derek said smugly, and Stiles frowned at him.

 

”Wow, I didn't actually think you were a jackass, but I guess it's true that you should never meet your heroes.”

 

Derek couldn't help but laugh, and that probably didn't help his image any, but Stiles was looking at him with that face that meant he was trying to crack the code. Something obviously put him onto the trail, and Derek thought it was a good a time as any to let him follow where it lead.

 

”What's so funny?”

 

”I can't dance,” was what Derek said, helpless against the excitement and joy of the moment. Stiles trusted him so much, trusted Derek to not let him fall, to not step on his toes, to not judge him, to be there for him, as Derek _or_ as Superman, and Derek... Derek couldn't help but want to trust him in return. With everything.

 

Derek slowed them down, holding them floating upright in the air, feeling almost the same as he had last night on that dancefloor, borderline drunk on Stiles' closeness and his gleaming eyes. The wind toyed with his hair and made his shirt flutter around his slender neck and Derek was bursting with how beautiful Stiles was as his eyes darted around Derek's face.

 

”It's okay,” Derek said softly. ”Let your brain go there.”

 

Those were the magic words, and there was a moment of complete stillness, long enough to make doubt lance through Derek's gut, that maybe this was the wrong choice after all. But then Stiles' eyes widened hugely and his jaw dropped open.

 

”Oh... my... god, you _asshole!_ ”

 

Stiles had called him worse over taking the last sugar packet for their morning coffees, and Derek grinned, relief and happiness holding him up as much as his powers.

 

”You seriously didn't think you could tell me before this?!”

 

”I wanted to,” Derek admitted. ”But... I was trying to protect myself.”

 

The face Stiles made at him was like a study in outrage. ”What the hell, do you honestly think I would out you?!”

 

”No. No, but... you could hurt me. I was scared.”

 

”Pfft, you're Superman. How could I possibly hurt you?”

 

Derek sighed and took Stiles' hand, holding it to his chest. ”Not that kind of hurt.”

 

Stiles' whole face changed, everything smoothing out in slack awe, eyes opening slowly wider. There was a blink, like in slow-motion, the very intensity of the moment slowing down Derek's perception of time. He wanted to preserve this moment forever. This moment where Stiles knew everything. Derek's secrets, his feelings, his wide open heart.

 

”I won't” Stiles whispered, after an eternity had passed. ”I swear, I won't.”

 

”I know.”

 

End.

 


End file.
